


a small bit of forgiveness

by fatalize



Series: Fruits Basket Childhood [2]
Category: Fruits Basket
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalize/pseuds/fatalize
Summary: Ritsu wasn’t sure when exactly he became drawn to women’s clothes, just that it was when he was at Kagura’s once.





	a small bit of forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Ritsu is one of my favorites -- I feel like I get how he thinks (or maybe I'm just projecting). That being said, it was a little hard to put into words my understanding of him. But I tried. So, here's his childhood fic.
> 
> Not sure of the exact age of how old he should be here, because I don't think it was mentioned in the manga. If Ritsu and Kagura are about three years apart (?) I'm thinking roughly (very, very roughly) maybe he was eleven and she was eight. But I don't have my heart set on that, so think whatever suits you best.

            For as long as he could remember, Ritsu had grown up with apologies chorusing around him like background noise. The “I’m sorry’s” of his parents were ever-present and so constant Ritsu wouldn’t be surprised if his first words were the same. Shame was a companion that was carried in his blood, stitched in his cells, resided in his heart as much as the zodiac curse itself.

            _Sorry, sorry, sorry, we’re so sorry, our deepest apologies, we apologize for_ —but what was it for, this shame, this embarrassment and mortification at what seemed to be simply existing?

            Merely living wasn’t good enough, it seemed. Because Ritsu wasn’t special like Yuki or smart like Hatori, wasn’t as strong as Kagura or as steadfast as Kureno, wasn’t ambitious like Ayame or clever like Shigure. At least he wasn’t the cat—at the very least, he had worth in that—but the average, bumbling monkey, weaker and dumber than even some of the less elite Sohmas, was a disgrace for claiming a status he had done little, it seemed, to earn.

            Ritsu wasn’t sure _when_ exactly he became drawn to women’s clothes, just that it was when he was at Kagura’s once, and her mom had come in to her room, a yukata folded over her arms.

            “I picked this one out for the summer festival,” her mother said. “Isn’t it cute?”

            “Mom!” Kagura protested. “I told you _I_ wanted to pick out my own yukata this time!”

            “Just give it a look, okay?” Unflinching, just like Kagura. And so she put it down on the bed and left the room and closed the door and Kagura and Ritsu were left alone with it.

            Kagura sat with him on the floor for a few seconds in silence before temptation overtook her and her stubbornness melted and she went over to the yukata and picked it up. Looked it over. Turned to Ritsu and said, “You don’t mind if I try it on, right?”

            Ritsu shook his head. So Kagura put it on, this simple white yukata with a light blue floral pattern. She went over to her full length mirror, turned to the left, turned to the right. Ritsu thought her mother was right; it was cute, it was lovely, the flowers seemed to bleed out of the white like still-wet paint, a living piece of art—and Ritsu was awestruck. After twisting around a few more times Kagura simply said, “It’s okay. It’s cute, but…”

            “You don’t like it?” Ritsu said, surprised at the disappointment in his own voice.

            “I don’t love it.” Then she turned to Ritsu. “It might look better on you.”

            Ritsu knew he should say no, thank you, but he surprised himself again by letting a “May I…?” escape his lips, and so he covered his mouth with his hands.

            Kagura continued to stare at him. “Are you serious?”

            “I’m sorry!” he immediately shouted, looking away. “I’m sorry! That was too bold of me! To think that a boy like me could ever wear a yukata like that is—” _and would it even fit him because Kagura may have been tall for her age and he was pathetically, stupidly small, yes, so maybe they could be similar sizes despite the age difference but he still wasn’t supposed to wear it, was he, and she would think it was weird and strange and disgusting and oh if only if only he could think before he spoke—_

            Suddenly fabric hit his face. “Try it,” he heard Kagura say. “I really think it would look better on you.”

            Ritsu didn’t make any further protests. He knew in his head he shouldn’t, that it would only give his parents another thing to apologize for, to be ashamed of—but for some reason the more he thought about that the more he felt compelled to put the thing on.

            And when he got it on correctly he was stunned by how much he loved it—how lovely it was—how lovely he thought he looked in it. While he may not be talented and while his feminine looks have been made fun of more than praised, he thought briefly that maybe if he couldn’t be ambitious or tough or smart, he could possibly be beautiful.

            But, in truth, he didn’t care much about that. Beautiful or not, he found a specific sort of comfort in wearing the garment. Perhaps it was an accessory to his shame, proof that he was what he was, a walking apology, a living embarrassment—perhaps it was simply something he liked, thought was nice, could take ownership of for the first time.

            “I was right!” Kagura gushed. “It looks great on you.”

            “Do you mind if I…keep it?” Ritsu softly asked, unable to look away from the mirror.

            "You'd wear it? More than once?" Kagura blinked. Ritsu nodded. “Take it off my hands, please.”

            And Ritsu didn’t ask, _won’t your mother be mad?_ Or, _are you sure you won’t get in trouble?_ He didn’t double check or make sure or do any of the polite things he’d normally do because he wanted this, didn’t want this opportunity to slip from his hands, knew that if he forsook it he might not have the courage to ask again.

            And so he clung to it, releasing his shame from inside him outward, giving himself a small bit of relief, a small bit of forgiveness.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, after proofreading this, it occurred to me that one possibility that may have happened (in canon) is Kagura could have wanted to play dress-up with Ritsu or something, considering her rather forward personality, and made him try it on herself (and that's how he discovered it "by chance"). I don't know. But I went with this approach because I wanted it to be something Ritsu was drawn to and Ritsu chose for himself (if that makes sense).
> 
> Also, I'm aware that in the panel in the manga where he talks about how finding out wearing women's clothing calmed him down he's wearing a more Western-style dress... but since there's no real story behind it I just decided to make my own (shrug emoji). Anyway, it is what it is. I hope it was worth reading nonetheless.


End file.
